


Les Doigts Disparus

by flower_child



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 03:19:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4375211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flower_child/pseuds/flower_child
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"So, though more than a year later, Cosima thought, that’s why she’s being forced to endure her own doctorate party...while being fingered."</p><p>It's Cosima's doctorate party, and her family and friends are there to support her. Except for one Delphine Cormier's wandering fingers, which are a bit...distracting...she's having a wonderful time. Though, she is pretty sure she deserves it, after a, um, incident at one of Delphine's family Christmas parties.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Les Doigts Disparus

_“Fuck,”_ Cosima hisses under her breath as disgustingly French fingers trace slow circles on the inside of her hip through her dress.

“What’s that, Cos?” Sarah chirps from across the table, scooping more potatoes onto her plate.

Cosima glances mutinously at Delphine to her left, who’s smiling broadly. The tantalizing motions grow ever closer to her inner thigh, making her swallow hard to contain a gasp.

A warm hand grips her shoulder from her right. “You alright, love?”

“Yeah, Mom, I’m great!” she replies, desperately trying to keep her voice even.

“I imagine our new Dr. Niehaus is tired,” Delphine grins, a look of adoration on her face.

Cosima is absolutely not deceived by the teasing she-Satan.

“It was a beautiful ceremony, Cosima,” Mrs. S. says from the head of the table.

“I propose a toast.” Felix raises his glass, and the clones, Delphine, Mrs. S., Mr. and Mrs. Niehaus, Cal, and Donnie join in. “To _Doctor_ Cosima Niehaus.”

“Thank you guys all so much, I’m so glad you could all make it!” Her breath hitches on the last word, making several people shoot her confused glances—her girlfriend had punctured each clink of their glasses with a foray further into the line of her short dress.

 

Actually, looking back, she’s reasonably sure she deserved it…but she hadn’t expected Delphine to take _this_ long with the revenge.

She remembered the day fondly, full of triumph, victory, and conquest.

The doctor to her left might describe it a little, well, differently.

 

“Cosima, my love? Are you ready to go?”

Cosima glanced in the mirror, lips pressed tightly around several bobby pins, to find a blonde head peeking around through the door. She wiggled a few free fingers, the rest of which were trying to do something with the rather uncooperative dreads.

As Delphine stepped into the bathroom and hopped up onto the sink, Cosima stole a glance at her outfit.

 _Damn._ It was gorgeous.

How was it possible that only Delphine Cormier could make a high necked black dress look elegant, classy, and what should be illegally sexy all at the same time?

“Mm mm-m mm,” she murmured through the bobby pins, earning her a confused glance.

“What was that?”

She spit the pins onto the countertop. “That’s really hot,” she clarified.

Slight color rose high on Delphine’s (glorious) cheekbones as she said, “Not, like, _too_ hot, right? I mean, it’s _Christmas,_ and—”

“Mm, don’t worry,” Cosima said softly, moving to stand in front of Delphine’s position on the counter and pulling at her hips to slide her off. “I’ll keep the drunk uncles away from you.”

“Cosima, really, my parents—” she avoided Cosima’s approaching lips, a look of genuine worry beginning to steel over her features.

“Hey, look at me.” Cosima laid a hand gently on Delphine’s jaw and steered it so they were face to face. “It’s gonna be fine. You look great. Super classy. Everything will go smooth as a baby’s bottom.”

“If you say so,” she grinned, finally succumbing to the kiss.

Not unexpectedly, Cosima began to feel pressure rising in her groin as Delphine’s hands wandered lower down her back and her tongue pressed up against hers.

“Shit,” she breathed, breaking away.

“Is something wrong?” Delphine’s hands immediately flew to clasp her wrists.

“No, no.” Cosima shut her eyes forcefully, trying to focus. “Is it bad that I just really, really want to fuck you right now?”

“Well, seeing as we are going to my family Christmas party, and we should’ve left fifteen minutes ago…”

Cosima grinned, seeing right through the cool-girl act. A flush was beginning to creep up Delphine’s neck, and she watched as the other woman’s jaw worked.

“C’mon, it won’t take long,” Cosima whined, hopping up and down on the balls of her toes. She tried her hardest not to let her gaze wander to the tightly fitting bodice of Delphine’s dress—too late. Shit.

She rubbed Delphine’s ribs right below her breasts—a move she knew her girlfriend couldn’t resist. She watched as Delphine gritted her teeth and shifted her legs uncomfortably. “We really need to go, Cosima.”

Cosima rolled her eyes before unpinning Delphine from the edge of the counter. “Killjoy,” she muttered.

“Maybe if _someone_ had actually gotten up with the alarm, we would’ve had time.” Delphine slipped past her into their bedroom and tapped her foot by the doorframe.

“Maybe if _someone_ had actually let me go to sleep at a reasonable hour, I could’ve gotten up earlier,” Cosima said, smirking at her girlfriend as both of them thought back to the previous night’s activities (which were a very large portion of the reason Cosima was so worked up right now).

Delphine poked Cosima in the side as she passed her. “Cheeky.”

“I’m gonna get you, Cormier. Just you wait.”

 

It wasn’t the first time Cosima had met Delphine’s extended family—she just hoped they’d be a little more amicable than last Christmas. The two had bailed out early after a drunk uncle and grandfather got into a shouting match in French over the volume of the TV, and Delphine’s various aunts’ interrogations were always a blast. So, needless to say, Cosima was pretty determined to make this year… _memorable._

Dr. and Mrs. Cormier, as well as Delphine’s grandparents had flown in from Paris and were staying with the aunt and uncle who were hosting the party, so Delphine and Cosima were the last to arrive.

 _“Bonsoir, tout le monde!”_ Delphine called after entering the house.

Nobody actually looked up from their activities except for her mother, who gave a small wave.

Yeah, it pretty much went downhill from there.

 

_“Chaque année, Marie-Claire! Chaque année, tu demandes question après question! Peut-être, Delphine ne veut pas répondre. Tes questions, elles sont vraiment grossier.”_

They were sitting at dinner, Delphine having just dodged several questions about Cosima in rapid French to an aunt, and, thank God, her mother had come to the rescue.

Of course, Delphine’s family was aware of their relationship, but that didn’t make questions any more enjoyable. On the contrary, they were just more prying and intruding. From her limited vocabulary and 3 half-assed years of Italian in high school, Cosima gleaned that Auntie Marie-Claire was asking something about having children? Possibly?

Cosima glanced at her flushed, obviously annoyed girlfriend, and placed her hand on hers on the table, gently stroking her thumb. This seemed to make her relax slightly, but the light touch only sent Cosima’s memory into overdrive.

She tried her hardest _not_ to think about those long fingers and the places they’d been last night…fuck. Too late. While she was at it, she definitely was _not_ going to think about how those perfect lips, now coated in cherry lipstick, had left their mark _everywhere._

_Everywhere._

 

Well, she decided, this dinner was going down the toilet anyway. Might as well have some fun.

 

As Delphine’s father engaged her uncle with a story about what might have been their cat (?) in France (Cosima could never be quite sure. She always got ‘cat and ‘chair’ mixed up), Cosima covertly slipped her hand back under the table to rest it on Delphine’s knee comfortingly. She watched as Delphine looked up at the new contact, but Cosima made sure to give no notice for what she was about to do.

Though, admittedly, she didn’t actually see that Delphine had just taken a large mouthful of food, so when she slipped her fingers gracefully under her girlfriends dress to graze the lace underwear beneath, the French woman actually started choking.

Well, almost. She could still cough, so that meant that the airway was still open—anyway.

Delphine had doubled over coughing, evidently having inhaled a piece of turkey. The entire table sprang to action, including Cosima (whose left hand was mysteriously missing from the scene).

Choruses of “Delphine?” _“Ça va, ma chérie?” “Respire!”_ _“Tu veux de l’eau?”_ rang throughout the table, and Cosima was rubbing her back and being a Very Good Girlfriend (all the while, her fingers never stopping their slow massage).

 _“_ _Pardonnez-moi,”_ Delphine mumbled before screeching her chair back from the table and hurrying to the bathroom, Cosima quick on her heels.

Cosima shut the door behind her coughing girlfriend, grinning furiously.

“What on earth were you thinking?!” Delphine exclaimed. Well, sort of. It was more of a hoarse, whispered exclamation.

Cosima shrugged, leaning against the door. “You seemed worked up, so I wanted to, you know, help you out.”

Delphine let out a groan, which quickly turned into another set of coughs.

“It’s alright,” Cosima said loudly (loud enough for the table to hear). More quietly, she continued, “Look, I’m sorry.”

“No you aren’t,” Delphine choked. However, when she looked up, Cosima was pleased to find she was grinning. “However, you’re totally going to pay for this.”

“Mm, I look forward to—whoa!”

Delphine suddenly had pressed her against the tiled wall of the bathroom, and had brought Cosima’s thigh to rest somewhere near her hip. She dragged her fingers _painfully_ slowly up to meet Cosima’s thin laced underwear, starting to make slow, tantalizing circles around her clit.

“Oh my God, Delphine—” Cosima gasped, arching her back at the pressure. “We can’t fuck in your aunt and uncle’s bathroom.”

_“T’es si sexy, je ne sais pas résister…”_

Her fingers worked their way around until they rested just over Cosima’s entrance—

Then she pulled them away.

“Delphine?” Cosima whispered as her girlfriend opened the door to leave. “Delphine, where are you—Delphine, you can’t—Fuck.”

Ache between her legs still growing uncomfortably, Cosima readjusted her dress and followed Delphine back into the dining room. Fucking teasing piece of—

 _“Oui, tout va bien, merci,”_ she heard Delphine telling her family as they took their seats again.

 

The rest of the dinner passed rather uneventfully, and they bailed around 8—wait. There is probably one thing she should mention, it’ll be back later.

 _“Oh, Delphie, parle un peu à ta recherche,”_ Delphine’s mother was saying. _“C’est très intéressante.”_

So, with an excited look on her face, Delphine started telling her grandparents about their research at Dyad, leaving out, from what Cosima could glean, the parts about, you know, the clones.

While she could listen to Delphine talk in French for literally hours (and she had been—it was getting a little frustrating, as Delphine didn’t always remember to translate), there was work to be done.

Covertly, again, she slipped her fingers under the table and pressed them against Delphine’s center, making slow, teasing circles.

 _“Vous voyez, c’est quelque chose très méthodique, et on n’arrive pas toujours à—”_ Delphine’s breath hitched, and she evidently lost her train of thought. To cover herself, she coughed loudly, but Cosima grinned at the panic in her eyes. Payback.

 _“Désolée,”_ Delphine coughed. _“Quelque chose encore dans le gosier.”_

 

As they walked down the path leading from the house, Delphine clamped onto Cosima’s arm, which, from the family members watching from the window, would’ve looked like a gesture of adoration.

 _“I am going to get you for this,”_ she hissed into the mane of dreads.

“I look forward to it,” Cosima whispered in response, still grinning at the tight sound Delphine’s English always had after she’d been speaking French for a while.

 

So, though more than a year later, Cosima thinks, that’s why she’s being forced to endure her own doctorate party _while being fingered._

Several curious glances are still trained on the pair as Cosima quickly gets up to excuse herself to the kitchen.

“Where are you going, _ma cherie_?” Delphine asks, innocently catching her wrist.

“Um, butter,” Cosima chokes.

Mrs. S. picks up a tray quickly, passing it in their direction. “Butter’s here, love.”

“Oh, thanks,” she mutters, forced to sit back down and apply it to her corn on the cob. Predictably, Delphine’s fingers return to their place.

 _Whyyyyyy_ did she have to pull that shit at the Christmas party? Why, God.

Cosima watches as Sarah rests her elbows on the table, staring from Cosima to Delphine with a strangely knowing look on her face.

To Cosima’s horror, Delphine speaks next. “Cosima, why don’t you tell everyone a little about our research?”

“Well,” she begins, trying to keep her voice as even as possible, “we’ve moved on to studying chimeras like Kendall, after, you know, the gene therapy. I’m really excited, and I’m sure Delphine is too.”

Surprisingly, the speech passed without incident, and Cosima takes a breath of relief.

“Hey, where _is_ Scotty?” Felix asks suddenly, searching the table.

“Uh,” Cosima said, breath hitching momentarily. Delphine had shifted her fingers’ position. “I think it was something to do with his cat’s preschool graduation or something. He couldn’t make it.”

 

 _Thankfully,_ everyone clears out soon after this. She kisses what feels like hundreds of people goodbye, says _thank you so much for coming!_ and ushers her family and friends (probably too excitedly) _out of her house._

She leans against the door after slamming it shut behind Sarah, Cal, and Kira, and stares daggers at her girlfriend, who’s innocently cleaning up the table.

“You are a piece of shit, you know that?” Cosima hisses, borderline stalking Delphine around.

“You know, because of you, my mother made me see an allergist to see if I’m allergic to turkey,” Delphine shoots back. “Do you know how painful those pricks are? Let me tell you—”

She’s suddenly pinned against the doorframe by Cosima’s jutting hips, her words silenced by hot lips. _“Finish what you started, or so help me God…”_

 

Needless to say, the night passed a little more…eventfully than Christmas.


End file.
